


Tie Your John Down

by Furorscribiendi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furorscribiendi/pseuds/Furorscribiendi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rodney was the last person John would ever suspect of being a Queen fan."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tie Your John Down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [sga_flashfic](http://sga-flashfic.livejournal.com/)'s 'sex, drugs and rock n' roll' challenge.

_____________________________________

Midday in Atlantis was the best opportunity to grab some alone time. Rodney knew this since he was currently in a small, out of the way room with a few essentials.

He’d been here plenty of times before and no one was the wiser. Though, he sometimes had to ferret out other places. John had the annoyingly regular habit of almost finding out where he was while he was… occupied.

But John was all the way on the other side of Atlantis now, busy with something or who knew what.

So, he stretched as he looked over his supplies. CD player, check. CDs, check. Power Bars and other assorted goods full of carbohydrates, check. Paper and matches, check. Video recorder, to capture some brilliant insight he might have and then forget, check. And his treasured little baggie, double check.

He was all ready.

_____________________________________

John jogged along the walkway, heading towards the outskirts of Atlantis. He hadn’t seen Rodney since the “Laser Incident” in the lab a few days ago. 

Never let it be said that a Rodney lacking sleep and laser lights mixed together very well. Adding a hapless desk into the mix didn’t make it any better.

And he knew Rodney liked to go to a few spots that virtually no one knew about. He knew about some of them because he’d inadvertently stumbled on them during Kolya’s brief occupation of Atlantis.

That, and he told Rodney about some of them.

It was a simple matter of elimination. John just didn’t like half the jogging that was involved going from one end of a pier all the way to the end of another. And when you were looking at least six places, it made you pretty tired pretty quickly. Rodney didn’t go to them in any regular pattern.

But John had a feeling that Rodney was off in the southwest pier’s smallest storage area. It was just large enough to comfortably seat four people. That seemed to be Rodney’s favourite spot, but he didn’t go there often.

John could see the door just up ahead, so he slowed his steps and walked up to the door quietly. He paused outside, pressing his ear against the surface. The beat of bass and drums greeted his hearing. He paused for a minute, looking at the door before he opened it and stepped in.

Sitting there on the floor, joint in one hand and a Twinkie in the other, bopping his head to Queen’s _A Kind of Magic_ sat Rodney, with a baggie and bunch of papers and matches just within easy reach.

“Rodney,” John asked closing the door quickly, feeling like he had to ask the obvious. “What are you doing?”

“John?!” Rodney gawked at him, a bit of Twinkie clinging to the corner of his mouth.

“Yes?”

Rodney stared at John for a long while before a giggle escaped. “You weren’t supposed to find me here.”

“Apparently,” John took a deep breath before he shook his head a bit. Pot fumes wouldn’t be very helpful at the moment. “Is there a reason why you’re here eating Twinkies and smoking pot?”

“Yup.” Rodney grinned at him beatifically.

“… Are you going to tell me?” John asked.

“Nope.” Rodney said soberly before he burst out laughing. “Did I ever tell you why Queen is the best band ever?”

“You didn’t.” John said. Rodney was the last person John would have ever suspected of being a Queen fan. “Are you going to tell me now?”

John was hearing a small warning voice in his head say that it was more than time to clear out from the room, but most of him decided that just standing there and breathing deeply was a much better idea.

Rodney waved off his concern before making quick motions for him to sit. John did, alarmingly fast and watched Rodney. Rodney moved in until he was almost nose to nose with John.

“Freddie Mercury.” He whispered.

Rodney leaned back slightly, nodding his head as if it made all the sense in the world. John couldn’t take his eyes away from the joint. That had to be much better than just the smoke alone.

“Can I have some?” he asked, reaching for the joint.

Rodney gave him a grin and handed it over. John looked at it for a moment. He didn’t have anything that needed to be done for… for… well, for a good long while. He really shouldn’t be doing this, but he’d inhaled so much of the smoke already that being in for a penny and in for a pound wasn’t going to be the end of the world. Rodney seemed utterly delighted when he took a long pull and then handed the joint back over.

“So you really decided to join me in some debauchery, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” John grinned at him, feeling much more euphoric that he did a few seconds ago. He snorted, chuckled and then said, “You know, I should mention this.”

“What, what, what?” Rodney asked eagerly, sounding breathless.

“This goes right to my head.” John managed around giggles.

“Really?” Rodney looked surprised for a moment and then handed the joint back over. “You need a bit more.”

John blinked at the utterly authoritative tone in Rodney’s voice and then collapsed to the floor in laughter.

Rodney didn’t look the least bit offended, but handed over a Twinkie with a serenity that would have made the Dalai Lama envious.

John was pretty sure that Rodney didn’t usually have that serenity. Or those incredibly blue eyes. Or just… really, really incredible hands. And wow, his mouth was crooked, but in a totally good way. Good crooked wasn’t bad in this case.

“Is this the real life, is this just fantasy,” Rodney started singing half to himself. “Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality –”

“Wow,” John stared at Rodney. “You sound just like Barry Manilow.”

“You mock me or Queen and you get no Twinkies.”

“C’mon. You really do sound like,” John broke down into a momentary fit of giggles before he gasped out, “Barry. Manilow.”

“Twinkies.” Rodney said with that beatific grin once more.

“Fine. You don’t sound like Barry Manilow. What about Neil Diamond?”

Rodney leaned in until he was almost brushing lips with John. “I think you’re going to have to sing for your Twinkies now.”

_____________________________________

Rodney was pretty sure he wanted to be left alone in peace to smoke up. But after sharing three joints with him, John was just plain fun. He somehow didn’t think anyone else would have been willing to sing Queen songs into a Twinkie, while shaking their groove thing for an audience of one. 

And John really sounded like an emasculated version of Rod Stewart. Or that other dude… Rodney could never recall his name, Collins Phil or something like that.

“Yeah,” John said as he plunked himself back on the floor and then devoured the Twinkie. “Freddie Mercury.”

“See,” Rodney nodded his head sagely. “There’s a… a…”

“The zen of Freddie Mercury?”

“Yes!” Rodney exclaimed. John completely got it now.

“Hey, what song is this?” John asked, sitting up eagerly as guitar riffs filled the room.

“I Want It All,” Rodney replied a bit dreamily, as he ate another Twinkie. There was nothing quite like a Twinkie; so full of artificial goodness and no nutritional value at all.

“I want another Twinkie,” John said after a moment, reaching around Rodney for the box.

“No more Twinkies,” Rodney said as John shook the box with a bit of a forlorn look.

John shook the box once more before he looked at Rodney. A hungry look came to his eyes a moment later. Rodney was trying to muddle through it when John leaned forward and started licking away bits of Twinkie crumbs and cream from the corners of his mouth.

Funny how there seemed to be a direct co-relation to the things John could do with his tongue to the response stirring in Rodney’s pants. He vaguely recalled that there were Power Bars, but John was a much more preferable option over Power Bars.

John tasted like Twinkies. This was a win-win situation in Rodney’s viewpoint.

He pushed John onto his back and clambered on top of him. “I want some Twinkies too.”

John broke out into a fit of snickers but they stopped once Rodney leaned forward and started licking around the corner of his lips.

“Rodney,” John breathed a little plaintively, squirming a bit.

Rodney just grinned and gave John a look from the corner of his eye. “I want it all, John.”

John shuddered underneath him and Rodney then found his mouth being attacked by a cream flavoured tongue and a Twinkie tasting mouth.

That just made the day even better: Twinkies, Queen, weed and John all rolled all into one.

Rodney didn’t know exactly when John had seemed to sprout two extra sets of arms and hands, because he could feel John’s hands everywhere between the nape of his neck down to his ass and the damned jacket and shirt was too much. John seemed to agree since he managed to get his hands underneath the material and slid them up Rodney’s back with a satisfied sound.

What Rodney could do without was the squirming.

He relaxed a bit more of his weight on John, running his hands up John’s sides. John squirmed some more, his hands leaving Rodney’s back to do something else. Rodney could have sworn that he kissed John and the next thing he knew; he was pinning John’s arms above his head and out of the way.

“Mmm,” John purred happily. “Are you going to tie your John down?”

Rodney felt like the Cheshire Cat, and he probably had a matching grin on his face. ‘Your John’. That was just as good as ‘his John’ which was just as good as ‘my John.’

“If we go back to my quarters, I’ll do a lot more to my John.”

Rodney wasn’t expecting John to spring to his feet, gather everything up and start dragging him from the room before he even had time before he knew what was really happening.

He saw a few surprised faces and he could only grin and wave with his free hand as John rushed headlong to his quarters. Once they were there and in, the door closed and Rodney vaguely heard the sound of the door locking shut. And he thought he heard a clatter, but mainly because he was pressed against the door, being kissed breathless by John, he wasn’t all that sure if it was the stuff that John brought that clattered to the floor.

“C’mon Rodney,” John gasped as he broke off for air. Rodney was already pushing him back towards the bed when John finished off with, “Tie your John down.” 

_____________________________________

John blinked slowly in the dark as he woke up. He was pretty sure of a few things. One was that he wasn’t in his own quarters. Two was that Rodney was sleeping soundly on top of him. Three was that Rodney’s normally messy rooms looked like a few Lantean storms had raged in an extremely localised area. And four was that his ass was sorer than holy hell. 

“Okay,” John muttered, feeling a bit muzzy and confused. When all else failed, recounting from the last clearly recalled point was best. “Went to find Rodney…”

He paused at that. He’d found Rodney all right. Smoking up a joint and eating Twinkies while listening to Queen.

It was starting to trickle back now. He was sure there had been him dancing and singing into a Twinkie, Rodney ogling him, some talk of, ‘tie your John down’ and then him morphing into some sort of harlot who’d dragged Rodney back here and then proceeded to be fucked silly.

No wonder his ass was sorer than holy hell. And why it was pitch black in here; it was the middle of the damned night.

He managed to push Rodney off of him, with a grunt, and then sat up. Okay, not a good idea when one’s ass was sore. He stood up gingerly, looking around the room.

The vague silhouettes of things scattered everywhere reached his dilating pupils. Clothes were strewn over half the lights in the room, and stuff normally in its place scattered on the floor. John looked at the room’s floor, more memories coming back now.

The tablet laptop had been displaced from its home when Rodney decided he wanted John on the table before giving him a rimming that made him come so hard he was sure he died, went to heaven and got yanked back to Earth.

And the table itself was shoved away from the wall, and the framed diplomas littered the floor with other things. Rodney had decided that having John against the wall was much better for a blowjob, rather than on the table.

And the vaguely human-shaped spread-eagle hole amid the clutter… John felt his face turn red. Well, he supposed everyone had one story that made them turn red whenever they recalled it. The sort of story you’d remember when you were old and never utter to another living soul, other than the other person involved.

He looked away, his eyes landing on the video recorder. The video recorder that was still on and reading three quarters depleted.

“Urgh,” Rodney grunted from the bed. “It’s freezing; could you have at least pulled the covers back up?”

John watched as Rodney jerked said covers up and rolled over. “Rodney.” He said simply.

Rodney didn’t move for a moment. But after a moment, he sighed and rolled back over to look balefully at John. “Since you’re naked from head to toe and not yanking on clothes, I’m assuming there’s no real emergency. Ergo, I’m ignoring you and going back to sleep.”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “Your video recorder is still recording, you know.”

Rodney looked at him with puzzled annoyance before he got up from the bed, blankets bundled around him. “What?”

“Your video recorder is still recording.” John restated.

“Yes, yes, and this is a problem how?” Rodney asked his growing irritation evident.

John didn’t say anything, just picking it up and stopping it. He rewound it back a bit and then hit play.

As the sounds played back, John watched as Rodney’s eyes grew wide. John was resisting that urge himself. The playback sounded absolutely… no, incredibly filthy hot. It sucked in terms of images, since it had been facing a wall the whole damn time. But the sounds… it was better than porn. The images would just pop into one’s mind to accommodate the low, husky voices, moans, groans and various squishy, wet, sucking noises.

“I think this is a problem.” John said when he was sure he wouldn’t sound like he wanted to go for another round with Rodney.

“Well obviously,” Rodney said scathingly before he fell into a thoughtful silence. “Do we really sound like that?”

“Apparently.” John said. “This really is a problem.”

“Yeah,” Rodney said. “And I noticed you haven’t deleted it yet.”

“I’m getting there.” John said a bit distractedly, now listening to the breathy sort of groan Rodney got when he came that was playing now.

Nothing sounded in the room now for that sound. It was soon followed by the recorded exclamation of, “Jesus fucking bloody goddamn hell” which melded with a groan of completion.

“Well,” Rodney sounded smug now. “Apparently, this is irrefutable proof that I’m so good, I can make you forget how to swear properly.”

John couldn’t reply. His mouth was dry, and all his blood had opted to start migrating south as he had listened to the recording. He looked down at the counter, and it read 2:17/4:00. Holy crap, there was four solid hours of audio like this? He couldn’t stop the rush of recalled memories and new fantasies that flooded his mind. He must have been drooling or doing something else equally silly.

Rodney seemed to pick up on that. “You know, since you’re so eager to delete this,” he said dryly. “Maybe I can save the audio.”

John looked at him, blinking and shaking his head to clear his mind. “Wha-What?” he managed.

“I can save the audio. I wrote a personal 30-bit SECOQC encryption key.”

All John saw was Rodney’s mouth moving and the things it could be doing, rather than talking. “Uh, laymen’s terms?”

“I wrote an encryption system that only I can use, and makes the files useless unless it’s properly decrypted in the right sequence and then played.”

John’s brain took a bit to work through that long explanation and digest it down. “So you can save it and there’s no risk.”

“Precisely.” Rodney looked smug once more.

“That’s just –” John began.

“Yes, I know,” Rodney interrupted. “I’m a brilliant genius, and my diplomas, of which now are on the floor and I expect you to help me put them back up, can attest to that. But I’m getting cold and I would like to get back to sleep if someone, doesn’t mind.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Well, you warm up the bed faster than I do.”

John smiled at that and then nodded, turning the camera off and putting it on top the laptop. Rodney finally seemed satisfied and went back to bed, falling back onto it with a billowing of blankets. It took them a bit to get themselves comfortably arranged.

“You know,” John mused as Rodney’s breathing started to even out. “I never would have thought that weed would act like an aphrodisiac on you.”

“I didn’t know you sounded like an emasculated version of Rod Stewart when you sing.”

“… I’ll ignore that.” John snorted before he stifled a yawn.

“Oh please. You so wanted it. I think you may even like it when I smoke up.” Rodney muttered.

“I do, but I’m just glad you don’t light up often,” John yawned. “I don’t think my ass could take it.”

“Yeah,” Rodney chuckled sleepily as he patted John’s ass. “You’re not exactly a fat bottomed boy.”

“I’ll ignore that too.”

_____________________________________


End file.
